


This Song Will Save Your Life

by Quixcy



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Bromance, F/F, F/M, Look at this photograph, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, THERE IS PLOT, Time Skips, did you know nickelback also started in '95, everyone gets a happy ending, just some good old fashioned fluff, kissing in later chapters, luke just loves everyone, never thought i'd be writing sonfic again, reggie is ace, you get a happy ending and you get a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixcy/pseuds/Quixcy
Summary: “What do you want?” she asked Covington. “You have to want something in exchange.”Caleb grinned and waved his hand again. The scene changed, twisted, and returned to the Hollywood Ghost Club. The glamour faded from the boys, and they dropped where they stood. They groaned, sleepy, on the ground, as if they’d been in a wonderful dream they didn't want to wake from. Perhaps they'd never have to.“Of course, of course,” Caleb said. “Quite simple, really.”Then he stepped closer to her, so close she felt the hair on her skin rise up.“Your voice.”***A few weeks after the concert at the Orpheum, Alex still hasn't found Willie. When a surprise trip to the Hollywood Ghost Club puts Julie in mortal danger, she finds herself faced with an impossible decision -- her best friends . . . or her voice.//Loosely based on The Little Mermaid.//
Relationships: Alex & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Julie Molina/Reggie, Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 242





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for checking this fic out. Each chapter is inspired by a different pop-punk song from the late 90s/early 00s, and there will be about 5 or 6 chapters in total. So hold tight while I write and upload them. I'm not going to mess with canon relationships too much -- Julie and Luke, Alex and Willie (and Reggie as the aro/ace icon we all deserve and love, because that's how I choose to define him).
> 
> There will definitely be a lot more fluff and snuggles and tears in later chapters (and maybe a kiss or three), but nothing more than that. Just trying to keep things bromantically wholesome!

**Chapter One**

T H E M I D D L E

> _Hey, you know they're all the same._  
>  _You know you're doing better on your own (on your own), so don't buy in._  
>  _Live right now, yeah, just be yourself._  
>  _It doesn't matter if it's good enough (good enough) for someone else._

There were three things that meant more to Luke, Alex, and Reggie than life itself: The first being music. I mean, what kind of pop-punk band from the 90s _didn’t_ thrive off skilled guitar licks, broody bass, and sick beats? They’d be posers if they were any less in love with music.

The second thing that meant more than life was—in fact, still—a good street dog. Despite how their last dog turned out, the boys couldn’t fault just one street dog when all the others had been near perfection. Sometimes, even though he didn’t eat anymore, Luke daydreamed about that one street dog they had on the Santa Monica pier when they were opening for some band they could almost remember—Nickelback? Quarterback? _Whatever_.

Luke was sure they were disbanded by now, anyway.

But the third, and most important thing, that meant more to the boys than life itself was someone they never saw coming—

“Writing another song for Julie?” Reggie asked Luke.

Startled out of his thoughts, he sat up straight on the stool. He was using the grand piano as his desk, lost in words that didn’t really make sense, crossing them out, and trying them again. Over and over. He knew what people said about someone who did the same thing over and over, expecting different results but . . .

He never had this problem before.

He had the tune, the song, the _anthem_ in his head, but there were no words strong enough to fit into it.

It was strange.

“No,” he replied absently. Then frowned. Tapped the eraser of his pencil on his notepad. “I mean yeah, but no. Not this one. It’s just a tune stuck in my head—I can’t get it out.”

“Wanna hum it?” Reggie asked. “Alex, care to help?”

Yeah, like Alex had heard _anyone_ the last thirty minutes. He’d been disassociating real hard laying over there on the couch, twirling his drumsticks, and staring up at the ceiling. Luke wasn’t sure he’d even blinked.

When Alex didn’t respond, Reggie called louder, “Hellooooo?”

Startled, Alex accidentally slammed the tip of his drumstick against his mouth. He yelped and sat up. “Ow! What—yes—oh. Um. What?”

“You were a million miles away, weren’t you?” Reggie asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Something up?”

_Yes,_ Luke thought.

“Nah,” Alex lied.

Luke had a feeling it had something to do with that ghost Alex met—Willie. He’d never seen his friend take to someone so quickly, or fall so hard. Usually, that was _his_ M.O.

Reggie thumbed back toward him. “Luke’s got a song he’s writing. Needs some help with it.”

“I don’t _need_ help with it—”

“What’s the tune?” Alex interrupted.

He breathed out through his nose. “It’s hard to explain . . . remember when we were playing at the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

Reggie shivered. “I’d rather not.”

“Yeah well, I heard it there first. In my head—I know how that sounds,” he added quickly, holding up his hands. “Trust me. But like, we played at the Orpheum and then came back here? Where Julie found us? I—I swore I heard a song in my head. When we were glowing and stuff.”

Alex and Reggie exchanged a look, and he _knew_ that look—and he was too late to head it off. “Guys, don’t—”

“Luke and Julie,” they began to sing, and he grabbed his pen like a knife.

“You’re dead,” he swore and lunged off his stool. He chased them across the garage. They were _so_ dead. Deader than they already were. Deader than—

“Sitting in a tree!” They sang. He managed to catch Reggie by the shirt and sink Alex into a headlock, and they howled, “K-I-S-S-I-N—”

The garage door creaked open, and the girl in question stepped inside.

“Julie!” Reggie crowed. “You’re home!”

Luke quickly let go of both of them, and shoved them away, and hoped to god Julie didn’t see how hard he was blushing. Because he wasn’t blushing from embarrassment. No way. He was blushing because—because—

Oh, _crap_.

“Sorry it took so long,” she replied and dumped her bookbag near the couch like it was the entire weight of the world behind sloughed off her shoulder. Well, it was. Her world, at least. And what was important to her was important to them—but especially him. Even if he hated school when he was alive.

Maybe if he’d known someone like Julie, he wouldn’t have.

She wandered over to the piano. “Is that a new song?”

He quickly slid over and flipped the notebook closed. “Ah—just some scribbling. Nothing major. How was school?” he asked, averting attention from his not-song.

“It _sucked_ ,” she groaned. “I think I totally failed that chemistry test.”

“I hated chemistry too,” he agreed, thankful his diversion worked. He quietly slipped his notebook underneath the pile of sheet music on the piano.

“Do you still get to explode volcanoes?” Reggie asked and fell sideways into one of the chairs. “I totally ruined the lab.”

“That was _you_?” Alex asked.

“Who knew it’d explode?”

“Literally everyone,” Luke deadpanned.

“Well, it’s not really a thing anymore. It takes an act of god to go on a _field trip_. Endangering our lives in the classroom? Absolutely not.” She pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail, and he tried not to stare at the small beauty mark on her neck and the soft curve to her shoulders. Weird. Weird-weird- _weird._ She scrunched her nose. “And Nick’s been acting really weird.”

“And Nick is… the blonde kid?” Alex asked, moving aside the book that Julie had lent him on the couch, to make room for her. _The Summer of Everything_ by Julian Winters. (It was so cool how the scope of gay teen fiction had changed over the last twenty-five years.) “Your classmate?”

“Yeah.” She sat down hard on the sofa and scrubbed her face. “Remember when he showed up at the house the day after the Orpheum?”

“With the flowers?” Luke asked, thumbing back to the almost-dead bouquet of wildflowers sitting on the grand piano. “Yeah, we remember.”

“He’s been so weird since!” she sighed, throwing her hands up. The bangles on her wrists clinked together like wind chimes. She always made some sort of music when she moved; it was enthralling in a way Luke couldn’t put a finger on. It was similar to how Reggie seemed to never sit still, and Alex was always _too_ still. It was something enthralling. Something he liked. A lot. “Like, _weird_ weird. In dance today he…” But then she trailed off and scrunched her nose. “Nevermind. It’s fine. So what have you all been up to?”

Reggie shrugged. “Oh, you know, ghost things. Haunting. Lingering around. Watching people. Ooh! Your dad made some _amazing_ sourdough bread this afternoon. Ray’s really getting to be a great cook.”

She smiled, “Yeah?”

“It smelled _delicious_. I bet it tastes better.”

“He’s not the greatest cook,” she lamented. “Spaghetti and French dip aside.” But then she cocked her head, thinking. “But... he _does_ love to bake. Or—he did. When I was little, I liked helping him measure out all of the ingredients, and we’d both sit on the ground in front of the oven and watch the bread rise. Mom would say we were _ridiculous_ , but she always ended it with ‘mi amor’ so I knew it was never really ridiculous at all.”

Whenever she told stories with her Mom in them, her face lit up like a sparkler made of joy. But sparklers always ran out too soon, and so did her stories, because the endings were all the same.

Her face dimmed, her smile melted, and she said, “Dad hadn’t baked since she died. I’m glad he is again. It’s weird, you know? Things are slowly, bit by bit, returning to some sort of normal. I thought the world had split apart when Mom left—but I guess we’re learning how to stitch it back together.”

“Life moves on,” was all he could say.

Reggie gave a one-shouldered shrug. “We should know that better than anyone. I mean, the world didn’t stop when we kicked it.”

“I wonder if it made a difference at all,” Alex muttered.

“Of course it did. I know it did,” Julie replied, and said to Reggie, “And I’ll let you know how the bread tastes.”

“ _Sweet_!”

Julie smiled and turned her gaze to Alex beside her on the couch. “And how about you? Have you found your friend?—Willie, right?”

Luke quietly picked at his nails and sat back on his stool. He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question, but he was glad she had.

Alex pursed his lips. He was silent for a moment and finally said, “No, I haven’t. I’ve been to all the skate parks—even that guy, Justin Bieber’s house—and I can’t find him anywhere. Do you think…”

“He’s probably fine,” she assured him and glanced at the rest of them for support.

Luke and Reggie gave each other a hesitant look because honestly, neither of them knew. Alex hadn’t told them that he was still looking for Willie. Luke had assumed that he’d found him, and that was where he’d been going these last two weeks, and Reggie’s shrug meant he thought the same. But if Willie hadn’t come to find Alex, and if Alex hadn’t found him, then . . .

Luke frowned. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“You didn’t?” Julie wondered.

“I thought I could find him on my own,” Alex tried to explain. “I mean, I thought maybe...” He shrugged. “He could’ve just stopped wanting to hang out with me. That’s possible. And I’ve been around enough people who’ve given me the wrong impression.”

“I don’t think that’s him, though,” Luke said gently.

Reggie agreed. “He genuinely seemed to like you. And you were happy around him—yeah we could tell.”

“And if Caleb . . .”

Julie looked between the three of them. “What could Caleb do?”

He winced. He’d told Reggie and Alex not to tell her about _everything_ that had happened at the club. It would just make her worry more, and besides, it wasn’t like they’d go to the club ever again anyway. “It was nothing.”

Alex gave him a look. “It wasn’t _nothing_.”

“He could control us,” Reggie gave up the ghost.

Her eyes widened. See, this was _exactly_ the kind of thing he didn’t want her to worry about. “Control you? Like—mind control?”

“No, more like...” Reggie mimed being a marionette with strings. “It was weird.”

Alex agreed. “It was like he was twisting us. Made us do what he wanted. It scared me.”

“But we’re fine now,” Luke added adamantly. “He doesn’t have control of us.”

She frowned. “But... if he could do that to _you_ , what could he do to Alex’s friend?”

And that was the crux of it.

“Yeah,” Alex muttered, sitting up on the couch. “I was thinking that, too. I hate this. I don’t even know how to find him if he _is_ in trouble.”

Julie thought for a moment. “How do you get around when you poof places?”

The friends exchanged a look, and all three of them shrugged. Luke said, “We just sort of… think about a place. And we go there. I mean, but with you it’s different. We can just think about you—”

“And we feel this pull right here,” Reggie added, touching his stomach. “It’s really weird.”

“Then _poof_ , we’re with you,” Alex finished. “I don’t think any of us really know how it works.”

“So… couldn’t you just think of him?” she ventured.

Alex opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again—

He wasn’t the _greatest_ at expressing himself or the things he wanted. Luke knew that better than anyone, but he also knew that when Alex didn’t have something to say, it was because he was thinking. And really, why _wouldn’t_ it work? Alex had never let himself think about being happy because internalized homophobia was the kind of baggage even being twenty-five years dead couldn’t solve.

“I—I could try?” Alex offered weakly.

“But what if it leads you straight to Caleb?” Luke asked. “Last time we _barely_ escaped.”

“I know but…what if something’s happened to him?” Alex wrung his hands together worriedly, trying to keep them moving so no one could tell they were shaking, but Luke could tell. “What if it’s all my fault? And Caleb did something bad to him? What if Caleb _unmade_ him—”

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” he quickly hurried over to his friend and grabbed his hands. Alex glanced up at him. He squeezed them tightly. “No thinkin’ that, okay? No negative vibes. Not right now. We’ll find him.”

Alex squeezed his hands thankfully. “You’re right.”

Julie agreed. “I’m not sure what I can do but—whatever you need to me to do, anything, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” Alex replied. “Could you stay here and—oh, I’m not sure if you’d be able to see him...”

That _was_ a problem...

“ _Oh_!” She jumped to her feet. “I’ve got some cardboard left from a school project. I can write something like ‘Willie, Alex is looking for you’ on it and stay in here? Just in case?”

The young man hesitated. “You don’t have to. I’m sure we’ll find him—”

“Alex,” she interrupted, and began to reach out to gently touch him on the knee, but then she realized that they couldn’t touch anymore. None of them could. It seemed like the night they broke Caleb’s curse was a one-time affair. They couldn’t recreate it no matter how they tried. Instead, she focused on him, turning her entire body toward his, and said, “You mean a lot to me. You all do. And you’re there for me, so the least I can do is curl up on the couch here with a poster and do some homework. I might even invite Flynn over, we’ll see where the mood takes me.”

Alex swallowed the knot in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Then let’s get finding,” Luke said, coming over and outstretching a hand to Alex. He helped him up and brought him into a short hug. “We’ll find him, bro. I _know_ we will.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Absolutely,” Reggie added. “And we’ll be back before you know it.”

Alex held out his hands. His friends both took one and held tightly. They closed their eyes and Alex imagined Willie, wherever he was. Dark hair, skater smile, skinned knees, the smell of waves and sand dunes in his hair—

They felt the familiar tug in their stomachs, pulling them toward his destination. It wasn’t like flying to a place, pieces of them fitting together in a new space, but pulling toward a person stretched over a long, narrow tunnel. It was harder than it was with Julie, but it might’ve been because she was alive—and she was a light. She glowed from the inside out.

Willie was dark, hard to see, like a star that had once been bright but was now fading. Alex’s heart twisted—he hoped they weren’t too late. He hoped he didn’t pull his friends into a trap. He hoped Caleb hadn’t exacted his revenge on them through Willie.

He hoped for a lot of things—must mostly he hoped for the transport to happen quickly.

The tingle started in their feet, rising like a tide until every inch of them tingled (even the places they’d rather not mention) and then—

_Poof._

Through space and time and light and dark and matter and the great yawning void—

They disappeared from Julie’s garage and reappeared in the last place they ever wanted to return.

The Hollywood Ghost Club.

And the show was about to start.


	2. Welcome to Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to save Willie, but in this hotel, the rumors are you can never leave...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for such awesome comments and enthusiasm. I really hope I don't disappoint, ha! This chapter was so freaking fun to write. I love action scenes, and chase scenes -- and oh, that reminds me!
> 
> CW: fear, animal attack
> 
> Just an FYI! It's not too scary, but just to cover my bases on this chapter. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter Two**

W E L C O M E T O P A R A D I S E

> Since I left your home  
>  This sudden fear has left me trembling  
>  'Cause now it seems that I  
>  Am out there on my own  
>  And I'm feeling so alone

Alex grabbed his friends and dragged them back into a rolling wardrobe rack before anyone saw them. A woman in a bright red leotard hurried past to the opening of the stage, almost in tears—until she stepped out of the curtain and onto the stage. One step, the frown gone. Two steps, a smile. Like a marionette on strings.

He remembered that feeling, being dragged out on stage, taking a backseat in your own head as your body moved and performed and reacted to a song you didn’t want to sing. On stage, they heard the big band cross into another song, and the rush backstage quieted.

“Willie’s somewhere around here,” he whispered to them. “He’s got to be close.”

“We always appeared close to Julie,” Reggie agreed. “Any ideas?”

No, he didn’t have a single one but—he closed his eyes. Concentrated. The pull started again in his belly but it wasn’t strong enough anymore. Like there was an ocean between him and Willie. But it definitely pulled—

Down.

“He’s below us,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

They waited for another two dancers to pass, one of them crying, the other one warning that he’d mess up his eyeliner, before they were seized by the music and spun out again onto the stage. Now that the boys knew what to look for, they saw the strings on all the ghosts. The way their smiles were strained, their eyebrows furrowed in misery, the way their eyes seemed dead and distant. Trapped.

He tried not to remember what had happened the last time they were here. The way Caleb’s magic—what else could it be?—sank through their skin to their bones and pulled at them like toys. He had hated performing up on that stage. He had hated being introduced as _Alex,_ he had hated the applause, the hundreds of prying eyes, the way his hands had moved through the motions of the two and four on the snare and bass.

He’d never joined a band to be introduced as _Alex._ To soak in the limelight. He joined Luke and Reggie to be Sunset Curve. To funnel his anxiety through his fingers. To make something meaningful out of the pent-up chaos inside his hands.

To him, to Luke, to Reggie—it had never been about the applause.

“I don’t wanna stay here very long,” Reggie muttered, rubbing his hands nervously on his black jeans. “I get the creeps just being here.”

“How can he _do_ that?” Luke wondered. “Just—just control people?”

“I dunno. Willie never said,” Alex replied. “Look for a door or something. We need to find a hall, and probably an emergency exit stairwell to get down—”

“Or how about that?” Reggie pointed down the hall, where an elevator sat. It opened, spilling golden light into the dark area, and a guy stepped out, rolling a cart of food into a nearby greenroom. The elevator doors closed. “I bet it goes down.”

Luke nodded. “Yeah, and I bet it’s a lot easier than stairs. Let’s go.”

“Quietly!” Alex reminded. They crept out from behind the sequin jackets and feather boas and hurried down the hall to the elevator. He slammed his hand on the down button to call the elevator.

Reggie frowned, glancing over his shoulder. “The singer doesn’t sound like that Caleb guy though.”

“Who else sings at his club?” Luke asked, curious.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. “Guys!” Alex hissed, motioning for them to follow him inside. He forgot that the Hollywood Ghost Club was on the top floor. His fingers slid over the buttons. There were so many. But where was Willie?

His hand stopped on floor thirteen. He pressed it.

He was sure.

As the elevator closed, the same guy who had wheeled food into the greenroom came back out and caught them. “Hey!” he cried. “You’re not supposed to be—”

The elevator doors closed.

“Jeez, that was close,” Luke muttered. “I don’t think we got much time now.”

“Maybe he won’t tell anyone,” Reggie replied hopefully, but Alex and Luke gave him a knowing look, he relented, “Yeah, we should probably hurry.”

The elevator doors opened, but they didn’t arrive where they expected to. It was, quite frankly, a hallway right out of _The Shining_. Red carpet designed with gold filigree and matching red walls with empty portraits inside of them, and door after door after locked door, all painted black.

Alex reached back instinctively to his friends, and they grabbed his hand tightly. They all stepped out into the hallway together.

There was no one around.

“I dunno about you guys, but this is creepy,” Reggie muttered.

“He’s here. I know it.” Alex squeezed their hands tightly, and they started down the hall. Every door had a window into it, and they peeked into every one. Some were vacant, dark cells with a chair and a small cot. Others were light and spacious, mimicking swanky hotels they’d seen in advertisements and on TV.

Luke peered into one of them, squinting. “Hey, is that Kurt Cobain?”

“No way, Caleb wouldn’t—dang, it looks like him,” Alex replied, looking into the same window.

“No way,” Reggie added, glancing in.

The man looked at them, and they quickly dispersed down the hall.

Alex doubled his efforts. Willie had to be in one of these rooms. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did. It was like how he always knew where to find Julie, or Luke, or Reggie. It was an invisible string, and he was following it.

He just hopped Willie was okay.

About halfway down the hall that seemed much too long, he glanced into one of the windows, not expecting to see anyone—and there he was. Sitting on a bare cot, staring down at something on his arm. He looked worse for wear, his clothes rumpled and his hair hung in greasy strands. What had Caleb _done_ to him?

“Guys! Over here.” He motioned them over, and tested the doorknob. It was unlocked.

He opened the door.

At the sound, Willie glanced up—and met Alex’s eyes directly. Alex felt his stomach twist like it always did when he saw Willie. A soft flutter in his ribcage, like butterflies trying to escape. He always wondered what it meant when someone said _like called to like._

But now he thought he knew.

Willie’s eyes widened. “You’re here,” he whispered. His voice shook.

“Well, yeah, I mean, we came looking for—”

Alex barely had time to react before Willie was on his feet, and taking him by the sides of his face, and pulling him into a kiss. It was light and chaste and hesitant and thankful—so thankful. Lips brushing against lips, so feathery it felt like clouds. It was the first kiss Alex ever had, and he didn’t hate how Willie tasted like salt and spearmint gum.

Reggie and Luke high-fived.

That brought Willie back to his senses, and he jerked away. “No—no you can’t be here.”

Alex’s lips still tingled from the kiss. “I had to come. After you didn’t come around again...” He stepped closer to Willie again, wanting to close the gap that hadn’t been there a moment before. “You’re here because of me, aren’t you?”

“I chose to help you. I couldn’t _not_ —argh!” A white-hot light flashed in his center, like a mote of lighting, and he fell to his knees, clutching his chest.

Alex was beside him in an instant, steadying him, and turned his right hand over. There was a stamp there as if burned into his skin. His heart twisted terribly. “He cursed you?”

“Yeah. After he found out I’d told you about the stamp.”

He cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry—”

“I’d do it again,” Willie interrupted. “But you shouldn’t _be_ here. If he finds you, you can never leave.”

Luke said, “Well, good thing he isn’t going to find us, especially if we leave now.”

Alex said to Willie, hesitant, hoping he hadn’t come all the way here for nothing, “Come with us. I can’t leave you here.”

Willie shook his head. “He’ll just find me and who knows what he’ll do to you.”

“Then that something we’ll face then,” he replied adamantly. He wasn’t going to let Willie go—not this time. Not when last time, watching him walk away felt like tearing out a piece of his soul. He gently took Willie by the hand, and squeezed it tightly. “Please.”

“I’m gonna disappear, Alex,” Willie tried to explain. “It’s already been too long and this stamp... how are you all still here?” He added, realizing that Caleb’s curse would’ve absolutely dissolved them already.

Alex looked helplessly at his friends, and then shook his head. “I dunno how we broke the curse. But we did. And that means you can too. But we’re gonna get you out of here, first.”

Willie sucked in a painful breath. “Alex...”

He looked into his eyes. “Please.”

The dark-haired boy hesitated for a long moment. But then he nodded. “Okay.”

“Guys, help me,” Alex asked, pulling one of Willie’s arms around his shoulder, and Luke took the other. They lifted Willie to his feet, and started out of the room, back toward the elevator. Alex felt him shaking in his grip, remembering how badly the stamp had hurt. It was like being sucker-punched straight in the soul, over and over again.

“Hey so, what the hell _is_ this place, anyway?” Luke asked. They passed a door with a small window, a smaller girl inside. She sat in a corner, hugging her knees. “Who are these people?”

“Ghosts,” Willie replied tightly. “People Caleb...people he trapped.”

“Trapped—why? _How_?”

“I dunno, but I think it’s got something to do with how he controls people. And how lifers can see him. Once he binds you here, you can never leave.”

“Hotel California?” Reggie asked.

“What do you think inspired it?” replied the dark-haired skater. “How did you get past the hound, anyway?”

They were so close to the elevator.

_So. Close._

Reggie shot Willie a strange look. “What hound?”

There was a growl behind them. It was deep and guttural. It was comical just how perfect of timing it was, and it would’ve been funny right up until they looked behind them to the far end of the hall and saw the creature that stood there.

It might’ve been a hound—once.

But now it was... something a lot more terrifying. A dog would’ve been fine. Dogs were meant for good pets and games of catch. This thing was... meant for games of _run for your life or die trying._ It was the size of a small horse, dark as pitch except for its orange eyes, which flickered like dying candles.

“Run,” Luke whisper-begged. “Run. Run. Run—”

The hound hunkered down, its claws sinking into the soft carpet. Readying for a hunt.

“ _Runrunrunrun_ —”

Drool oozed from its mouth, the color of blood. The creature showed its stark white teeth.

The hound lurched toward them.

“RUN!”

The boys scrambled down the hallway. Willie tripped, but Alex helped him up again, and Reggie grabbed a grandfather clock and pushed it over to give them some time. It crashed to the ground, spewing guts of screws and bolts, and the hound advanced.

Luke was the first to the elevator. He slammed his fingers against the close-door button repeatedly as he waved his friends in with his other hand. Alex and Willie stumbled into the elevator. The doors began to close.

Reggie tripped on his feet, glancing back as the hound gracefully bounded over the downed clock. So much for _that_.

“REGGIE!” they cried. Luke and Alex reached out a hand, and grabbed his outstretched arms, and pulled him into the elevator.

The hound dove for them. Wedged itself into the closing door. It reached in, jaws snapping, dangerously white teeth razing Alex’s arm.

“CLOSE IT CLOSE IT CLOSE IT!” Reggie screamed, slamming his foot against the beast’s mouth, trying to push it back out the door.

“WE’RE TRYING!” Luke slammed his hand on the close door button over and over again.

“FASTER!”

“PUSH IT OUT!”

“IT’S TRYING TO _EAT ME_!”

“DON’T LET IT DO THAT.”

“I’M _TRYING_!”

Alex fisted his hand then and, like he’d seen divers do to sharks in those nature documentaries Carlos sometimes watched on Disney+, punched the beast square in the nose. It gave a yelp and jerked back—

The elevator doors slammed closed.

Reggie sank to the ground.

Willie leaned back against the wall. “The hound,” he repeated. “ _That_ hound.”

“Good to know,” Luke replied breathlessly.

Reggie added, his voice a bit high. “What a nice dog.”

Everyone stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Alex was the first to laugh, high and trembling, and soon they were all laughing because holy _crap_ that was insane. They almost died! When they were already dead!

Luke pressed the button for the lobby and said, chuckling, “Let’s go home to Julie.”

 _Home_. They hadn’t had one of those in so long—a place that felt like comfort and love and safety. Solid ground. A place to land. The word had never sounded so perfect before. Home. With Julie.

What a thought.

Willie hesitated. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to...”

Alex took him tightly by the hand and said, “Absolutely.”


	3. MakeDamnSure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie receives an unexpected gift from her late mother and a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, thank you all so much for your lovely comments!! They really make my day, so I'm just so happy y'all are liking this story so far! It's been a whirlwind week over here, so thank you for your patience. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out to y'all in the next few days!

**Chapter Three**

M A K E D A M N S U R E

> A long night spent with your most obvious weakness  
>  You start shaking at the thought  
>  you are everything I want  
>  'Cause you are everything I'm not

There was a knock on the garage door.

Julie glanced up from her trigonometry homework, her heart rising into her throat. Was it the boys? No—they’d just poof in if it were them. “Yeah?”

Her dad poked his head in. “May I come in?”

Her hope drowned in her chest. She closed her trig book and sat up on the couch. “Sure.”

He stepped into the garage and closed the door after him, sticking his hands in his pockets like he always did when he was just a little bit nervous. “So, what’re you up to out here?”

“Homework.”

“No practice session with the guys?” He paused, before quickly panicking, “Did the internet go down? Did the band break up?”

“What? No! No... they just had something to do. I’m waiting on them to call right now,” she said, really hating to lie to her dad. Over the past few weeks, she’d been mulling over the idea of just _telling_ him. What’s the worst that could happen?

Oh, that’s right—he scheduling her for five-day-a-week therapy sessions again. She didn’t hate her therapist, nice guy and all, but she didn’t need that. She needed her dad to believe her, and she knew that although he loved her, the story of a _ghost band_ was a little farfetched.

The worst part was, she really thought he would like the boys. He would like them a lot if they ever got the chance to meet, but she wasn’t sure in what kind of scene they could meet in. She would have to be singing, and they would have to be performing, and then— _poof_. That was it. Things would be so much easier if he could just believe her.

A deeper, softer part of her also wished the boys were alive.

But that was _never_ going to happen. Flynn had warned her about thinking that. The only kinds of things that came back to life were vampires and zombies, and those were—as far as Julie knew—not real.

This wasn’t _Beetlejuice_. Everyone wouldn’t be one big, happy family dancing to ‘Jump In the Line _._ ’

No matter how much she wanted that exact thing.

Her father came over and sat down on the couch beside her. “You know, I like your band. Hope I get to meet them someday.”

“Me, too.”

“Maybe when you get the call? I’m done with my work for the day, and I’d love to listen to you practice—”

“No!” she quickly interrupted. He looked startled. “I—I mean . . . not today! We’re working on a . . . very secret . . . project?”

Oh, she was so bad at lying.

So, _so_ bad.

Her mom was too.

Though her dad seemed to either take the bait or knew that today wasn’t a good day. She never lied to hurt him. She hoped he knew that. “Okay, mija, but soon?”

“Soon,” she promised, not exactly sure how _soon_ soon would actually be.

He kissed her on the forehead and stood from the couch. His bones creaked a bit. He was getting old. The year since Mom died had aged him so thoroughly. He didn’t like to show how much it affected him, but sometimes she caught him staring out of the window, a cup of coffee forgotten on the inlet counter, his mind somewhere very, very far away.

Halfway out of the music studio, he snapped his fingers and turned on his heels. “That reminds me. I was going through your mother’s old jewelry box, and I found this.” He reached into his jean jacket pocket and brought out a small golden necklace. “I remember she had it on the day we met. It was one of her favorites. I think she’d want you to have it.”

He placed the necklace in her outstretched hand. It was a golden songbird in flight. She ran her thumb over the engraved animal, her throat tightening. She used to call her a songbird. _My songbird._

“Thanks, Dad,” she replied, curling her fingers over the necklace.

He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After he’d gone, she opened her hand again and looked at the necklace that sat in her palm. She remembered her mom wearing it sometimes, but her memories were growing hazier and hazier the longer time passed. It was hard to hold onto moments when they slipped through her fingers like sand.

But this—this was real. Solid.

She put it on, and the metal felt cool against her skin.

“Mom?” she whispered, hoping that perhaps the necklace would be the same kind of link the _Sunset Curve_ CD was to the boys, but her call stayed unanswered. The garage was quiet.

The necklace was just a memory frozen in time.

But whether it summoned her mother or not, it was still hers. It proved that once upon a time, her mother existed. Her mother was here.

And oh, Julie still missed her terribly. She would do anything—anything—to just hear her voice again.

Just once.

She found herself wandering over to her mother’s piano, and sitting down at the bench. She ran her fingers over the ivory keys. When the boys had arrived by the magic of the CD’s music, she had pressed every key, thought of every melody she could, to see if she could summon her mom like she had them. But there wasn’t a song that could summon her, no matter how hard she listened.

No matter how much she wanted.

All of her perfect notes fell on dead ears.

“Hey guys!” Flynn called, pushing open the garage door. “It’s your resident favorite social media maven!!” She struck a pose and sashayed her way into the garage.

Julie looked up from the ivory keys. “They’re not here.”

Flynn dropped her pose. “What? Seriously? I _never_ manage to catch them.”

“Catch who?” Nick asked, following Flynn into the garage.

Julie jumped to her feet. “Oh—Nick. Hi.”

He smiled at her. “Hello, Julie.”

“I found him wandering around outside, so I thought why not invite him in?” Flynn said and waved her hand at the drumset and guitars in the room. “And I mean the boys—Jules’ hologram boyfriends. I _never_ seem to catch them when they’re here.”

“Holograms?” Nick asked, glancing around the space. “You must be very tech-savvy.”

Julie shot her best friend a glare and said, “Yes, very. The hologram thingies are so small you, um, don’t even notice them!”

“ _Right_.” He leaned against the grand piano, propping his head up on his hand. “You know, they look a lot like this band from the nineties— _Sunset Curve_?”

“Do they...”

“Most definitely. Spitting images, in fact.”

“Well they’re—they’re their sons,” Flynn covered quickly, and Julie gave her a look of absolute disbelief.

“They’re dead,” both Julie and Nick said at the same time. She looked at him in alarm.

Nick smiled, but something was off about his smile. Something had been off since the morning after the Orpheum. “C’mon, Julie, tell me the truth.”

She hesitated. “You’re not going to believe it.”

“Try me.” But when she didn’t say anything, he added—softer, more sincere, “Don’t you trust me?”

And she couldn’t say _no_.

Well, she _could_ , but this was _Nick._ This was the guy who she turned down and he still came to her performances and gave her flowers and—he was such a nice guy. The best kind of guy. And her friend, too.

A friend who would probably very soon think she was a little bit crazy.

“Okay,” she said softly and took a deep breath.

And she told him.

She told him everything—about how the boys appeared in her garage, how she didn’t know they would appear for _everyone_ until the second they joined her onstage at school. She told him about how they died—

“Weird, right? A tainted _street dog_.”

“That gives street dogs a bad rap. What did they ever do to deserve this slander?” Flynn agreed.

“Poisoned three guys, apparently,” Nick ventured.

—and about the almost-music-deal with the executive at the café, they played at. And then she told him about Caleb and the stamp, and that the only reason they had even played at the Orpheum was that they thought it might’ve been their unfinished business. And when it ended up not being the case . . . they came back to the garage. To disappear. But instead, somehow, Caleb’s curse broke.

She didn’t add the finer details—about her crush on Luke, or the fact that for just a moment after the curse had broken, she could touch him.

He had still been cold. As cold as death, actually. But it had still been nice.

Hugging all of the boys, together, had been nice. They had felt corporeal for a moment, a second, before her arms slipped through them and she found her arms around herself.

She tried not to think about the surprised and disappointed looks on their faces or the way her heart stuttered.

“And anyway,” she said, shaking herself out of her memories, “now they’ve gone to find Willie, who is Alex’s... um.”

“His _boyfriend_ ,” Flynn said.

“I don’t know if they’re _that_ yet—”

“Boyfriend?” Nick asked, then, as if something occurred to him, “ _Ah_.”

“Yeah so... they’re gone, and I’m stuck here making sure that Willie doesn’t come looking for him and they miss each other. Though, it’s getting late and...” She pursed her lips together and sat back down on the piano bench. “So anyway, feel free to call me crazy or whatever you want to. Because I know how it sounds, believe me.”

“I didn’t believe her at first either,” Flynn pointed out, but then scooted in to sit beside Julie on the bench. “But now I do, and I’m their biggest fan.” She hugged Julie tightly. “I know you’re stressed. Have you had dinner yet? Wanna get a snack?”

“I can’t go anywhere. Not until they get back, and because no one else can see them I can’t ask either of you to stay here and keep a lookout for them.” Then she said with a sigh, “It would be so easy if other people could see them.”

“Or if they were _alive_ ,” Flynn replied in a deadpan voice. “You can’t really romance a ghost.”

“ _Flynn_!”

“You can’t! I’ve seen the movie! All he’ll be able to do is pretend to make pottery with you!”

“FLYNN!”

Nick cocked his head. “Why don’t you go ask that ghost guy?”

“And you don’t even _like_ pottery!”

“I could learn—wait, what did you say?” Julie turned her attention to Nick.

He went on, “The ghost your friends went to go see? I’m sure he’s got a way to make them . . . _perceived_.”

Julie gave him a frustrated look. “They didn’t go to see _him_ —he’s the one that put the stamp on them and—anyway. It doesn’t matter. No, he’s not a good guy.”

Though Nick wasn’t done yet. “Maybe your friends weren’t telling the whole truth.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

He shrugged. “They didn’t show up for you before, right? At the dance? Means they’re just a little unreliable, don’t you agree? You don’t really know them, Julie. You don’t know who they are. What kind of people they are.”

Flynn said before Julie could retaliate, “They’re good people, Nick. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing!” He held up his hands. “I just—I don’t want to see her hurt, is all. I mean, pop-punk bands from the mid-nineties were _weird._ They did drugs and got arrested and did a lot of shady stuff. Why do you think Luke’s mom didn’t want him to be a _musician_?”

Julie was at a loss of words. “I didn’t tell you that, did I?”

He went on as if she hadn’t asked, “ _And_ they have a reason to lie to you. Because _you_ are the only one who can make them seen, so why shouldn’t they lie to you? To make them look as good as they can in your eyes?”

She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Luke wouldn’t, would he? No, he wouldn’t—and Reggie _couldn’t_ lie. It wasn’t in his DNA, and Alex was much too straightforward to lie about anything.

But the seed of doubt was already there, and it had already begun to crack open, feeding its dark roots into her heart, and grow.

“And if you separated yourself from them and they no longer had to use you, and they _still_ wanted to be in your band . . . well, then you’ll know, right? If they’re just using you, or if they truly care. Well, as much as seventeen-year-old boys can,” he added, motioning to himself.

This was definitely a side of Nick she’d never seen before, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. There was something off about him. Something about how the light didn’t catch in his eyes anymore. But it was just her imagination.

Flynn drummed her fingers on the top of the piano. “He kind of has a point, Jules,” she said quietly.

Yeah, he did. And she didn’t like it one bit.

She took a deep breath and closed the covering on the piano keys. “Okay. I think I know where the hotel is. Let’s go see for ourselves.”

And Nick smiled at her again, that same smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and she hoped that the boys were all right wherever they were.


	4. Check Yes, Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are trapped in the Hollywood Ghost Club, and Julie is the only one who can set them free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo everyone, and thank you for your patience! Last week was a blur of busy things + Halloween (happy belated Halloween, by the way), and it's not like this week is any less anxiety-inducing, but hey, I write when I'm stressed.
> 
> *finger guns*
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter!

**Chapter Four**

C H E C K Y E S , J U L I E T

> _There's no turning back for us tonight  
> _ _Lace up your shoes  
> _ _Here how we do,  
> _ _Run baby run, don't ever look back  
> _ _They'll tear us apart if you give them a chance_

The elevator carried them down toward the first floor. The antique lever above the door moved to twelve, then eleven . . . eight . . . seven . . . Close—they were so close to escaping this hellhole.

“We can just poof out, guys,” Reggie said. “We got Willie, yeah? Let’s go—”

“I can’t,” Willie replied—and suddenly gave a cry, clutching his chest. He flickered. Alex held onto him tightly, pulling Willie’s arm over his shoulder to keep him on his feet. “I don’t—I don’t have the juice, bro. I’m not going anywhere. Please—go without me. If Caleb finds any of you here, he’ll never let you leave again—”

That only made Alex hold onto him tighter. “We’re not leaving you.”

“Yeah, that’s not what we do,” Luke agreed.

Reggie nodded. “If you mean a lot to Alex, you mean a lot to us.”

Willie bit the inside of his cheek as he blinked back tears. “Oh. Thank you, guys.” Because he'd never had that before in death, and in life he could only remember flickers of friendships, and family. Ever since trading his soul to Caleb Covington for a place to belong, he had felt colder and colder. He had forgotten what it felt like to be a part of someone's existence, someone's memory, without paying the price.

He thought for a second there he had a thought, the truth behind Caleb's power, but the stamp and the pain washed it away as quickly as it crossed his mind.

And for his part, Alex squeezed Willie's hand tightly, reassuringly. Because they were all in this together, no matter what. And they were all getting _out_ of this together. No one would get left behind.

That wasn’t how friendship worked—

The elevator suddenly lurched to a stop. The lever said that it was stuck between the second and first floor—so close, so _close_ to the bottom—but then they felt the elevator rising up again, even as the lever said they were still between the first and second. They couldn’t be—

Panicked, Willie got to his feet again. “Stop it!”

Luke was already miles ahead of him, slamming his palm on the emergency stop button. To no avail. “I’m trying!”

“Oh no, no no no—this is bad. Get out of here,” Willie begged, grabbing ahold of Alex’s coat. “Please, go. _Please_.”

Alex took Willie’s hands tightly and shook his head. “Not. Without. You.”

Willie’s eyebrows knitted together, on his lips a question, when the elevator doors flew open. The boys looked out onto the familiar scene of the Hollywood Ghost Club. And the hope that they’d get out of this damn hotel fell, fell, fell until it was a lead rock in the bottom of their stomach.

Caleb Covington, standing just outside of the elevator as if to welcome them in, smiled and outstretched his arms. “My boys! You couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, could you?”

Luke fisted his hands. “Let us leave,” he demanded.

The man cocked his head. “Already? I’ve got some guests coming up. I thought you’d like to meet them.”

“No, we want to leave,” Reggie insisted.

“Are you sure? I have a feeling my new guest will just be _dying_ to see you all again.”

If Luke had a breath, it would have lodged in his throat. Because he had a horrible feeling about this. About Covington’s new guest.

* * *

“Julie, what the _heck_ are we doing?” Flynn asked, dusting off her knees. They had crawled underneath the dilapidated iron-link fence that surrounded the abandoned hotel, and Flynn thought she had torn her hose. On closer inspection, she definitely had. “We’re not supposed to be here! There’s no-trespassing signs _everywhere_!”

“I know—but the boys are here. I know they are,” Julie replied, and then realized—“Where’s Nick?”

Flynn looked around. “I could’ve sworn...” But all there was behind them was the chain-link fence, the KEEP OUT signs, and overgrown foliage. “I guess he decided to peace out?”

“Weird,” Julie muttered, but she couldn’t be concerned about that right now. She _knew_ her boys were in this hotel. They’d told her as much—this was where that Caleb Covington guy had trapped them in their ghoul club or ghost club or whatever it was called. She never once gave a parting glance to this condemned hotel—it was always a lurking building in the background of her life, something she never once gave a second thought to. Maybe that was what the hotel wanted—to be blend into the background, to hide, to exist only in the periphery of peoples’ lives until, like now, it was front and center.

The hotel hadn’t always been abandoned, obviously. She remembered her mom talking about it when she talked about the music scene in the mid-nineties. It once hosted the biggest names in music, until one day the doors just shuttered, and no one knew why. Mom told her about some absolutely bonkers parties, stories about rockers claiming themselves golden gods before diving into the rooftop pool and spontaneous concerts in the lobby and love stories that stayed within those walls.

But then the hotel closed up, and people forgot about it, though as she and Flynn found the front of the hotel, she could almost imagine what it would’ve looked like at its peak. The dried fountain overflowing with rainbow-colored water and expensive cars pulled up into the drop-off area, bellhops, and guests loitering in the now-deserted entrance.

Julie grabbed the rusted door handle and, with hinges creaking, she pulled the door open. She could only open it about a foot before it stuck on the uneven cobblestones, but that was enough of an opening to squeeze through.

“Are you sure the boys are here?” Flynn asked. “We’re gonna get into _so_ much trouble...”

“We _are_ called Double Trouble,” she replied smartly.

“I didn’t mean _this_ kind of trouble when I named us!”

“Well, maybe you need to broaden your definition of trouble—and besides,” Julie added when she saw that Flynn was about to rebuke her, “no one’s going to come looking for us. We’re fine. We’ll just find the boys and go.”

Though, that might’ve been a little easier said than done. There was no sign of life—or death, for that matter—in the hotel at all, and Julie wasn’t even sure if she could see _all_ ghosts or just her ghosts. Her boys.

 _The_ boys, she corrected mentally.

They weren’t hers, and she didn’t really even know how they felt about being perceived only when she sang. She knew they were too good of people, too good of friends, to ever say otherwise. But it didn’t stop her from thinking it. She was the only reason the world could see them, and she had to wonder if that wasn’t the case...

 _Stop it_ , she thought to herself.

If she kept thinking that way, she would start to spiral, and spiraling led to turtling, and if she turtled she would go turtling _all the way down_ and she really didn’t want to do that in an abandoned hotel that may or may not be haunted by the embodiment of the Devil himself.

Flynn nosed through the front desk, though most everything had been either looted or taken to another hotel. She tapped the bell on the counter, and it reverberated throughout the lobby with a sharp, high _ting._ “Wow, the acoustics are great in this place.”

“Mom said they used to hold impromptu concerts over there.” Julie pointed to an empty area adjacent to the lobby. It looked to be a sitting area, maybe used for breakfasts and lunches and loitering at night.

“I bet it was so cool. Did she ever come here to play?”

“I don’t think so.”

There were only a few photos of her mom in a band. Most others from the time were of her with other bands, working as a barback at one venue or another. She barbacked at the Orpheum for the longest. Maybe that was where she met the boys.

She wondered if they spoke when they were alive or if they passed like ships in the night.

She had so many questions, and she really didn’t know how to ask Luke, or Alex, or Reggie any of them.

There was an elevator to the left of the lobby, and—most peculiar—the elevator call button was on, emitting a soft yellow glow. And without really even thinking, she pushed it. The elevator dinged, and the creaky doors jerked open.

Her heart hammered in her ribcage. “F-Flynn!” she called. “FLYNN!”

Flynn vaulted over the counter and came to Julie’s side, pulling out a sharp hairpin for self-defense—and froze. Her eyes widened. “Electricity’s still on?”

“I... I guess?”

“I don’t like this.” Flynn was shaking her head. “I don’t like this at all. Maybe we should get your Dad. Tell him the truth. Then he can come here and—”

“But what if it’s too late?”

“How? They’re already dead.”

But Julie had a terrible feeling. It was the kind of feeling she had the day the principal called her out of music class last year. It was the kind of sinking feeling she felt as she walked behind her to the office, and her father was there waiting with red, grief-stricken eyes. It was the feeling of drowning, so slowly, under a tidal wave of grief that came so quickly and so intensely, she didn’t know she was underwater until she was in too deep to swim to the surface.

This was that feeling, but this time, she could see the tidal wave coming.

Her boys were here, and she had to get to them before—before they—

She had almost lost them once, she didn’t know if she could keep herself from drowning if she finally did lose them this time. Even though they weren’t hers to keep. Even though...

 _Stop it. They’ll be fine,_ she told herself and stepped into the elevator, much to Flynn’s refusal.

“I am not in no way going in there, you know how I hate tight spaces—”

The elevator doors jerked and began to close.

“— _Julie_!” She lunged for the doors, but it was too late.

They trapped Julie inside. Alone. She was... relieved, actually. Flynn would be okay in the lobby. Flynn would be safe.

The elevator lurched upward, and slowly began its climb. The counter at the top of the door counted up the floors. Two...three...four...

She swallowed the trepidation in her throat. She hadn’t pressed any buttons, but the elevator knew where it was going. It knew what floor to stop on.

Finally, the elevator stopped and doors shuddered open. Julie stepped out onto the plush red carpet. A plaque on the left read _The Hollywood Ghost Club._ So this was it. The place that Covington guy owned. It looked like the hotel had never been deserted, the carpet vibrant and the tables set for the night’s set and a big band stage at the far end of the room.

There was no one here.

Or, at least no one _Julie_ could see. She came to the edge of the banister and looked down onto the tables that circled the dance floor and stage.

And there, standing in the middle of the dance floor, were her boys.

“Luke!” she cried, taking the stairs down to the main floor two at a time. She ran up and, without thinking threw her arms around him. He was solid, though she didn’t know why.

“...Julie? What—what are you doing here?” Luke asked, returning her hug tightly. But he was shaking.

A tall guy with long black hair, who was sitting in a chair nearby, asked, “She’s the guest? She’s a _lifer_.”

“Julie,” Alex replied to his question. “This is Julie.”

Reggie groaned. “This is bad.”

Luke agreed and hugged her tightly, even though it really felt like nothing when she thought about it. He wasn’t warm—or cold, for that matter. He was just there. “You shouldn’t be here, Jules.”

Suddenly, the black-haired man jolted with a spark, and he clutched his chest and bent over with a groan. Julie let go of Luke quickly. “Is that—is that Willie?”

“Yo,” Willie replied weakly and gave a half-hearted wave.

Julie didn’t understand. “If you found him, then why didn’t you leave—?”

“Julie, Julie, Julie,” came a rumbling voice from the stairs. A man stood at the top of them, his figure outlined in the light that poured through the open elevator. He looked normal enough, human enough, but his shadow was too long, too distorted. It was wrong. The elevator doors closed with a flick of his wrist, and as he descended the steps he loosened the buttons on his sleeves. “I’ve been puzzling how my new bandmembers escaped their chains, but now I think I’m learning.”

Julie was pushed back behind the boys as they formed a wall between her and this strange man. Just looking at him gave her the worst kind of chills. She absently curled her fingers around her mother’s necklace.

Luke growled. “You won’t _touch_ her, Covington.”

 _Covington._ This was him—the ghost who had put a curse on her boys.

“She can come and go however she wishes,” replied Caleb Covington with the easiest of shrugs. “I have no power over the living. Well, I don’t have a _lot_ of power,” he amended and then turned his sharp eyes to Willie. “But it is nice to have all my troublemakers all in one place.”

Julie didn’t like the way it sounded like a threat. She also didn’t like being pushed back, someone to be protected. She _wasn’t._ She was here to save them, and she shouldered her way between Luke and Alex to make her point. Julie wasn’t afraid of this man in his twin-tail coat and slicked-back hair, looking more like some knock-off maestro from the fifties than a villain at all.

Julie found, at that moment, that she wasn’t afraid of anything at all. Except for one thought—the possibility of losing her boys.

“Let them go,” she demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” he echoed her and took another step closer. He cocked his head, studying her with eyes as devoid of light as a black hole. A chill curled down her spine. “Oh dear, dear sweet Julie, a long time ago, I met someone who gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. And unlike you, I had nothing to lose.”

Then he opened his hand and blew on his palm. Silver dust swirled out from between his fingers like storm clouds.

“Get back!” Luke cried, but he was just a voice by then. The air warped, glittering and bright, and suddenly the ground was gone—and she was falling, and falling, and falling, like Alice through the rabbit hole.

And into a great and terrible darkness.


End file.
